Sharp Edges
by Everlasting Heart
Summary: She marks her body with the words that haunt her. The words that fascinate her. The words that scare her. Everyday she finds a new spot. Everyday she finds a new word. This oneshot is inspired by the novel sharp edges written by Gillian Flynn. WARNING: dark themes.


This oneshot contains dark themes of self harm and suicide. Please be cautious! If those are themes you can not deal with, please do not read. For all of the readers, please leave comments. This is my first time writing something this dark and I would very much appreciate feedback.

Sidenote: I am not suicidal and I do not harm myself. I was just very inspired by Gillian Flynn's novel Sharp Edges. I really recommend this book to anyone who hasn't read it.

* * *

She marks her body with the words that haunt her. The words that fascinate her. The words that scare her. Everyday she finds a new spot. Everyday she finds a new word.

The spot behind her earlobe tingles until she gets home from work to carve the word that has been stuck to her brain all day.

 _Red_.

Her high school's spirit color. Her toenail polish. The color of the substance that spills from her body every time she does this.

She used to feel bad about it, she used to cry herself to sleep and ask God why she intentionally hurts herself. Now, she only lies in bed and traces the letters of the words that mark her body.

 _Teddy Bear. Skin. Teeth. Pink. Ribbon. Baby. Daddy. Grams. Crush. Perfect. Hair. Gone. Bird. Lost. Dark. Love. Drugs. Sex. Abuse. Family. Unity. Broken._

And now, _Red._

"Maybe I should tell someone." She thinks this every night as she traces and retraces the words on her while she tries to fall asleep.

"Maybe I should get help."

Bonnie never gets the help. Bonnie never tells anyone about her scars, instead she wakes up every morning and dresses in clothes that will cover her defects and goes to work as if nothing happened the night before, as if she is normal.

* * *

It started her senior year in college, in the spring when the flowers started to bloom again and her grandmother died. That was when she had to drive back to Mystic Falls after vowing she would never return four years ago because of the bad memories that haunted her in that town. But, nevertheless she had to go back because of Grams.

The devastation of Grams death, the memories of her step-father and step-brother's abusive words and fists, her last encounter with her ex-boyfriend. All of it started rushing back to her the minute she drove past the 'Welcome To Mystic Falls' sign.

She went to the funeral and gave a lovely speech about her Grams passing and how much she meant to her. She tried to ease the worries of other townsfolk by saying "I'm fine." when they asked "Are you alright?"

She never sat and analyzed the magnitude of the situation. When she went through the motions of the funeral, she never let a single tear drop because she didn't realize that her Grams was actually gone until that morning.

It was the morning after the funeral and her Grams former lawyer had asked if he could meet her in her hotel room.

"Sheila Bennett leaves to her granddaughter Bonnie Bennett all of her property, savings, and belongings."

"Everything" Bonnie asked. "Everything" the lawyer repeated.

When Bonnie walked into her Grams old house and saw her childhood stuffed bear casually lying on the living room sofa, she broke down. She dropped to her knees and clutched her chest. Her sobs rocked her entire body.

She was alone, completely and utterly alone.

It was that night that Bonnie found a pocket knife in the kitchen, stood in front of the bathroom mirror and carved " _teddy bear_ " on the underside of her left breast.

She tried to convince herself that it was just a little makeshift tattoo. She tried to convince herself that she did it for her Grams. She tried to convince herself, but she failed.

She failed to think about the sensational numbness that coursed throughout her body as she slid the blade across her skin. She failed to forget the high that she felt when the blood dripped from her body and onto the floor.

It soon became an obsession. The words expanded beyond her Grams. Bonnie was addicted and she didn't know how to stop. She didn't want to stop. She doesn't want to stop.

* * *

After receiving her Grams will, she decided to stay in Mystic Falls and live in the house that was left for her. Every week had the same routine. She wakes up and showers. She places a band-aid on her fresh cuts, to keep them sterile. She goes to work at the flower shop across from the Grill. By the time her lunch break rolls around, she has thought of a word.

The word usually conjures in her mind when she sees something that reminds her of her past, or she daydreams about her present. Then, she goes throughout the whole day with that one little word nagging at her in her brain. It pokes and pokes and pokes at her until one day out the week when she gets home.

She takes a shower first, she likes to be clean before she dismembers her skin. She washes away the impurity of the act, just so she can wallow in more self pity after she is done.

When she is out of the shower, and has dried her body, she sits naked on her bathroom floor. Bonnie chooses her next canvas. It is usually a place that won't be seen by public eyes. On her stomach, under her breast, her inside her inner thigh. Then, she uses the blade as a paintbrush, drawing out the letters on to her skin.

It's pure euphoria, and for a brief moment she forgets. She forgets about her Grams death, she forgets about her past in Mystic Falls, she forgets about her miserable life.

But when she's done, she remembers and she cries because she knows that what she's doing is harmful.

After she places a bandage on her wet canvas, she dresses in her pajamas and she lays on her bed. Her body shakes with her sobs and her mind is encompassed by sorrows. She analyzes her life and the choices that she has made. She isn't proud. She is damaged.

She was damaged by her father dying. She was damaged by her mother remarrying. She was damaged by her step-fathers wandering hands and her step-brothers berating comments. She was damaged by her mother abandoning her for a new life with a new child. She was damaged by her abusive boyfriend. She was damaged by her unsuspecting and uncaring friends. She was damaged by her Grams death. She was damaged by the fact that she believed that all of it, every horrible experience that she endured was her own fault.

In her mind, she goes through the "shoulda, woulda, coulda's", but there is no use. She can't change the past. She won't change her present. She is stuck. She is a ticking time bomb ready to explode, and one day she will. One day, she will take her life by the neck and wrap it around in a rope. And the more words she carves out onto her skin, the more confidence she gains to do what she always wanted to do.

She might leave the uncaring world after her next word. Or it might be after her next hundred words. Either way, she knows that it will happen. She knows that her dream will come true.


End file.
